Game On
by RowlingTribute91
Summary: She wasn't popular, and she didn't have any fighting skills. She was just a technology geek who kept to herself. But the Hunger Games will change everything for Wiress. And she might just fall in love along the way.
1. Chapter 1

"Wiress! I need your help, please." My mom's voice rings out as I lay in bed, not wanting to get up. Today could be the worst day of my life. Reaping day.

I finally relent, pushing myself up. "Be right there." Down the hallway of our apartment, I find her in the kitchen, struggling with the computer. Again. My tech skills obviously came from my dad, who oversees the exports we send to the other districts.

"How do I move this file to my music database?" she asks.

I sigh in frustration. "Let me see. It's so easy, I could do it in my sleep."

"Don't you give me that tone, missy."

"It's not my fault you're not as tech-savvy as me," I say matter-of-factly.

She breathes deeply, tapping her keyboard nervously. "Sorry. I'm just a little rattled because-"

"You don't need to say it, mom. I couldn't sleep all night, I've been so anxious. But I think of it this way: I've only got two more chances, and the probability of me being chosen is slim."

"That's true," she agrees with a soft laugh. "You and your obsession with probabilities. Still... I don't want to lose another child."

I start tearing up at the thought of my older sister Joules, who lost her life in the arena two years ago. She'd managed to survive for more than a week, making it into the top five. Then she ran into some poison ivy. Turns out, she was deathly allergic to it. Every day since, I've wished that I had volunteered for her, but she'd made me promise not to if her name was called. I couldn't break her promise, no matter how much it killed me.

"Good afternoon, my lovely ladies!" Dad strides into the kitchen, wearing a gigantic smile. He kisses Mom and then grabs me for a hug. "Wiress, where's your reaping dress?"

"Oh. I haven't put it on yet," I say. "We've still got a few hours." Dresses make me want to cringe, so I'm waiting until the last possible moment. Besides, I have better things to do than lounge around in it.

"Right." He wipes his forehead. "Thank goodness. Ready to go?"

"Yes sir." I've been working at his factory for about two weeks now. I'll be packaging batteries, computers, television screens, and other electronics, for nearly four hours, until we're called home to prepare for the reaping.

"Work hard!" Mom says in a cheery voice.

When we return home, I take a shower. Seriously, I'm sweating like a dog. The dress fits just right, as it does every year. I'm so petite, I barely gain weight even when I completely stuff myself with food. The fabric's very comfortable, the only thing I like about it. I throw a belt around my waist, then I brush my hair into a ponytail. No need to be fancy. When I step out of my room, I stare back sadly, as if it might be the last time I ever see this place. For all I know, it could be.

"Goodbye," I whisper.

We make our walk together to the district square, which is ten blocks away. Hordes of families join us, a sea of blue clothing. I'm actually very proud to live in District 3. It's the most technologically-advanced district in Panem, second only to the Capitol. We're not poor like the people in the lower districts, but we're not rich, either. The city life is all I know, so I guess I'd be in big trouble if I were reaped.

Standing on the town square platform is Mayor Lang, a few Peacekeepers, and a man with bright red, spiky hair. Ty Banks, our district escort.

"Welcome, citizens of District 3, to our fifty-fifth annual reaping," he shouts. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

I know the drill too well by now. I'm seventeen, so my name is in there seven times. The girl's going to be announced first.

Ty fishes his hand into the bowl, pulling out a name. "Our female tribute will be… Wiress Plummer."

My stomach does a nasty turn. I'm barely aware of my surroundings as I fumble my way to the platform. From the corner of my eye, I see Mom and Dad, who can barely look at me. A boy with messy brown hair and glasses, probably a few years older than me, waits to greet me. Beetee Kurtz, the most recent victor from our district. He gives me an apologetic look. I think he's already too used to watching his tributes die.

Ty reaches into the other bowl and walks over to the microphone. "And the male tribute is… Cameron Lang."

There has to be some kind of mistake. Cameron is the son of our mayor. He also happens to be twelve years old. His voice hasn't even started changing yet, but he's allowed to be put into the arena? I'll never get over this.

He steps onto the platform, shaking.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Ty announces, "your District 3 tributes!"

I hear some clapping, but for the most part, nobody reacts happily. A Peacekeeper approaches us, gesturing to the Justice Building. "This way, Miss Plummer, Mr. Lang."

Cameron nods to me casually as we walk there together, the first time he's ever even acknowledged my existence.

It's very quiet as I wait in the Justice Building. Sure, there are people who care about me, but I know the only people who will visit are my family. Or, what's left of it.

Mom and Dad stand at the doorway. They stare at me, unable to keep tears from falling. I just rush into their arms and cling to them like I did when I was little.

"You've got so much going for you, Wiress," my dad says. "You're incredibly smart and stealthy. I think you really can win this."

"But if you don't," Mom interjects, sniffling, "well… it's not your fault."

"Don't talk like that, Mom. You know I'll do everything in my power to see you again. The key is to never count myself out. Every time I feel like giving up, I'll remember you guys."

"Not just that," Dad says, his voice beginning to crack. "Win for your sister."

"Yes. I'll win for all of you." Now I'm choking up, too. "G-good-bye."

The Peacekeeper comes in to say that my time's up. Wordlessly, I let him take me to the train. Whether I like it or not, I'm now a tribute in the Hunger Games.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: If you're wondering, the icon is a picture of a younger Amanda Plummer, a. k. a. the actress who will portray Wiress :) **

I'm in awe when I step into our compartment, which is full of luxuries that I've only dreamed of having: heaps of food, three bedrooms, an elegant bathroom, and a load of plush seats.

After I'm done exploring, Beetee asks Cameron and me to join him on a couch.

"If you didn't already know," he says, "I'm Beetee, your mentor." He grins boyishly. "Glad to officially meet you two. I don't think you remember seeing me in school ever, but-"

"Of course I do." I blush a little. "You were the best in your class, and head of the robotics team. Not to mention, you won the Games three years ago. Those electric traps you made were genius." Plus, I decide, he's pretty good-looking. But I'd never say that aloud.

"Thanks for the compliment, I guess," he replies. "So, you guys should tell me all about your strengths, things that will give you an advantage in the Games. What can you do, Cameron?"

Timidly, Cameron looks at Beetee. "Well, I'm pretty good at building forts and fixing the phone line when it's not working."

"That's fine," Beetee says, mustering a smile. I can tell he's lying. Those skills won't be enough. Cameron's going to be slaughtered like a lamb. "You'll learn loads of helpful skills in your training sessions. They'll have stations for everything: Knife-throwing, archery, camouflage, fire building, weight-lifting, you name it. Now, you're much older, Wiress, so you must be a natural when it comes to electronics, right?"

I nod.

"Then you should explore the stations that you don't have experience in. That way, you'll have learned at least one new skill."

"Will do," I reply confidently.

Suddenly Ty bursts in. "Turn on your TV! You don't wanna miss the replay of the reapings."

"Thanks for reminding me," Beetee says. "Time to see who you're up against."

I pay special attention to the people from Districts 1, 2, and 4, because the majority of victors have come from their districts. They sure look intimidating. I've heard rumors that they train in secret from a very young age, even though it's not allowed. But after years of watching the Games, I definitely think it's true. It's the people from District 12 that I really can't seem to shake the memory of. The guy is Dwayne Watters, a thin boy with dark hair and tan skin. Quinn Mellark, the girl, is a pretty blonde with blue eyes. But she doesn't look much healthier than him. Things in their district must be unimaginably bad. They've only had two victors in fifty-four years.

Once we reach the Capitol, Cameron and I are separated. "To get ready for the parade," Beetee explains.

I groan inside. Like I really want to play dress-up at a time like this.

Before he walks away, Beetee puts a hand on my shoulder. "Oh, come on. It's not so bad." He makes a goofy face and winks at me. I try not to think about how cute he makes it look, because it'll only lead to a bad end. I _can't_ fall in love. Not now.

"Okay, maybe not," I agree with a chuckle. "See you later."

In my prep room, I go through a torturous hour of waxing and washing. It amazes me how much the Capitol overhypes an event where twenty-three people _die_. You'd think they were getting me ready for a beauty pageant.

"Your hair is just gorgeous!" one of my stylists says. She said her name was Nelly. _Her_ hair is obviously a wig. I mean, why would you dye your hair green? She pulls it off well, though.

"We're just going to add a little make-up now, and then we'll help you into your costume," the other woman, Sienna, says. Her clothes are the most outrageous thing about her. Case and point: she's wearing a knee-high dress covered in cotton balls, along with bright white tights and white shoes. I have to stifle a laugh, because she looks like a human marshmallow.

When I'm all ready, an unbelievably pale man walks in, carrying a black costume bag. "Hi! I'm Dev. My, you look beautiful."

Nobody's ever called me that besides my parents. "Um, thanks."

My parade costume is a jumpsuit, colored black on the bottom and copper at the top, with a copper bucket hat. I'm supposed to be a battery. Yippee.

Cameron looks just as ridiculous when I meet him and Beetee at the chariot. The helmet is way too big for his head, covering his eyes. District 1's already taking off, so it's too late to fix it.

"Hey there," Beetee says, unable to control his laugh as Cameron and I step onto the chariot. "Are you an A or AA?"

I roll my eyes. "Haha, very funny."

"Just trying to make you smile. You've got the best smile I've ever seen."

Suddenly, I'm beaming like an idiot. So much for not developing a crush on him.

"Here comes District 3!" Claudius Templesmith announces, his voice resonating throughout the parade circle.

I smile brightly and wave to the audience. It's just a silly parade, after all. I should enjoy the fun. While it lasts.


	3. Chapter 3

Cameron and I walk to training the next morning, determined to find our weapons of choice. Sure, I could make bombs or something that electrocutes, but I have no idea what will be available to us in the arena.

"Do you wanna be allies?" Cameron asks.

"Sure." He seems like a sweet kid, not to mention, our alliance would make our district proud.

"Can we go over to the weights?"

"Go on ahead," I say. "We don't have to stick together right now. Remember what Beetee said about learning new skills."

"Yes, _mother_."

What do you know. The boy's got a sarcastic side.

As for me, I've always wanted to try my hand at archery. When the trainer shows me how to nock an arrow, pull the string back, and aim, I'm so eager that I completely miss the target. I give it a few more tries, but I have to be realistic. I won't get much better at it during the next week.

"Why not go to the knot-tying station?" the archery trainer suggests. While I'm there, I run into the tributes from District 4, a girl named Tally, and a boy named Floyd. They're crafting complicated knots, knots that must have taken years of fishing to perfect. In the distance, I watch Cameron lift and throw an astonishing fifty pounds. So he's stronger than he looks. But that's nothing compared to the people from Districts 1 and 2. They're throwing knives, spears and axes like it's as easy as breathing. I try not to let my nerves get the best of me. These other tributes are so much more skilled than the rest of us. And they know it.

I decide to learn how to make a fire, since I've got no outdoor experience whatsoever. This proves to be a struggle, too, until Quinn Mellark, the District 12 girl, walks over. "Can I help?"

I nod gratefully. Her kind eyes say that she's not the type of tribute who would kill me, and something about her gains my trust right away. With her help, I get a fire going. I can't help but cheer when sparks ignite.

"I do this all the time back home," she says matter-of-factly. "We don't have any electrical heating, so this is how we have to keep warm in the fall and winter. Plus, my family owns a bakery. Takes a good fire to make the bread, you know."

In return, I teach her how to make a bomb. As I watch her connect wires, a lightbulb goes off in my head.

_Duh. _This would be my _perfect_ weapon of choice. I challenge myself by asking Quinn to time me with a stopwatch, to see how fast I can put a bomb together.

"Whoa, you're fast," she gushes. "That wasn't even ten seconds!"

After a few days of training, the exhibition day arrives, and I'm ready to go. My bomb-making demonstration goes off without a hitch. The Gamemakers actually applaud my time of eight seconds, providing me with a serious morale boost.

That night, Cameron, Beetee, Ty and I sit around our suite's television screen to find out our scores.

They move on to District 3. "Wiress Plummer. Eight." Then: "Cameron Lang. Seven."

"Wonderful!" Ty cheers, clapping like an excited seal.

"Not bad, you guys," Beetee says, giving Cameron a pat on the arm. He turns to me and extends his hand. I extend mine out, expecting a handshake, but he squeezes it instead. We've really grown close in the past week. Is it bad that I don't want to let go?

**Author's note: If you didn't figure it out, Quinn Mellark is Peeta's aunt! **


	4. Chapter 4

I wake with a start on the last day. The only thing I have today are interviews. Then it's off to the arena tomorrow morning. Where I have a 99% chance of dying.

Dev arrives in my dressing room with… another dress. Ugh. But, I decide when I see it, it's actually very pretty. It reaches the floor, a metallic silver gown with one diagonal shoulder. Sienna and Nelly fix my hair into a sideways French rope braid, adding in a matching silver ribbon. I feel so glamorous, almost like I'm a different person.

Backstage, even Cameron seems unable to pry his eyes away from me. Beetee walks over and pushes a strand of my hair behind my ear. I have to stop myself from shivering at his touch.

"There," he says. "You look perfect."

_Forget the Games_, I think to myself. _I could die right now and I'd be happy. _

Just then, Mason, the boy from District 2, walks offstage. Ceasar Flickerman announces, "From District 3, please welcome, Miss Wiress Plummer!"

I stroll onstage to meet him, smiling and waving to keep up my cheerfully geeky image.

"Hello, sweetheart," he says as he shakes my hand. "Take a seat. Now, can you tell us any tactics you might use in the arena?"

_Here's where I get to have some fun! _I smile mischievously. "You know I can't give away anything, Caesar! All I can say is, I'll be difficult to catch. You never know where I might show up."

"A very clever answer! If I'm not mistaken, your sister was a tribute two years ago. Am I correct?"

"Yes. Joules Plummer."

A sandy-haired boy in the audience catches my attention. Twenty-one year old Haymitch Abernathy from District Twelve, who won the Games five years ago, in the Second Quarter Quell. He looks at me knowingly, as if he can relate to my pain. Quinn mentioned that he always showed up drunk to their mentoring sessions. Talk about hurt. He had to survive against forty-seven other tributes.

"Do you think you have a better chance of winning than she did?" Caesar asks, bringing my focus back to the interview.

I shrug. "I guess we're about to find out, aren't we? But I don't consider myself better than she was, by any means."

"So, you're hoping to honor her by surviving as long as possible?"

He took the words right out of my mouth. "Absolutely."

"Good luck, Miss Plummer, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Night falls too soon. I keep pacing the hallway of our suite anxiously, wearing luxurious Capitol-made pajamas. What am I hoping for? I don't know. But I'm dying to take one last trip to the balcony that sticks out from this floor, with a shining view of the Capitol. Maybe it can help clear my mind.

As I'm standing out there, I hear a voice call me. "Wiress?"

I turn around to see Beetee, still in his interview suit. Wow, he's handsome. Suddenly, I wish I were still in my interview dress.

"Hey. I thought I'd find you out here," he says happily.

"You were looking for me?" My heart starts beating faster than I can run. Not that I want to.

"Yeah. See, I've always made sure that I visit my tributes the night before the Games, to give them some last bits of advice and say goodbye. I already talked to Cameron."

"I'm sure gonna miss that boy," I say sadly.

"You'll watch out for him, won't you?"

"Of course," I tell him. "We're going to be allies."

"Good choice," Beetee says, nodding. "You two work together really well."

As much as I try to resist, I'm staring into his deep brown eyes. They've got so much warmth in them that I can hardly think about anything else.

"Thank you, Beetee. For everything." The next thing I do surprises even me. I throw my arms around his neck and kiss him. Immediately, I back away, embarrassed.

"Sorry. I just wanted to see what it was like. You know, in case I die."

"Don't be sorry," he says softly.

"What?"

He steps closer to me. "I said, don't be sorry."

Before I know what's happening, he's pulled me in by the waist, kissing me back. For just this moment, I can forget all about the Games. Why can't we stay here forever?

Beetee presses our foreheads together. "I couldn't let you go in there without showing you how I really felt."

"Me either," I answer in a whisper.

"You're better than you give yourself credit for, Wiress. Now, get some rest."

How am I supposed to sleep after my first kiss? Not only was it a big moment, but in my current situation, it also means I have another person to win the Games for. No pressure.

I eat a gigantic breakfast in the morning, not knowing when I'm going to have my next meal. Scenarios of different arenas keep popping into my head. Is it someplace I'm familiar with? Probably not. Nobody's ever _truly_ prepared for the Hunger Games.

In the Launch Room, I say goodbye to my stylists, who pull my hair back into another French rope braid. It seems like a lot of fuss over nothing. "Um…" I try thinking of something to say as they primp me up. "You _do_ know my hair won't stay this way the whole time, right?"

"We still want you to look your best in there," Dev insists. He opens my clothing bag to reveal a maroon t-shirt, a pair of cargo shorts, a wool sweater, snow pants, and a gigantic winter coat. If the weather's planning on changing, this will be a tough load to carry.

Once I'm dressed in most of my clothes, he helps me into the coat.

"And the most important accessory: boots! Oh, by the way, there are gloves in the coat pockets."

I merely nod, because if I speak right now, while my nerves are at their highest, I might throw up. As the Peacekeepers take me to my Launch Pad, I try to distract myself by thinking of Beetee, how sweet his kiss was.

Then the dreaded countdown begins. All of us tributes stare at each other, surveying the arena. In the distance, countless shrubs, towering pine trees, and ice-capped mountains await. The ground is covered in an inch of snow. That explains my need for layers of clothes. It's absolutely freezing. I slip on my gloves. Thankfully, I've dealt with winters worse than this back in District 3. I'll be able to tough it out. The Cornucopia sits on the top of a small hill, a distance of probably fifty feet away.

Too quickly, it comes: "Five… four… three… two… one."


	5. Chapter 5

I break into a run. Good thing I'm notoriously fast. I used to win races against my schoolmates all the time back home. Joules used to call me a human lightning bolt. One minute I'm on my plate, the next, I'm at the Cornucopia. I loop a hand through one of the bags, and in a flash, I escape the impending bloodbath.

Nine cannons go off as I run. I trust that Cameron's not one of the dead, because I told him to follow me. He's just as fast as I am, so he must not be far behind. Deep in the pine tree forest, I stop running and scan the area for him. Then I see a coat sleeve poking out from behind one of the trees. My pulse races. What if it's one of the other, less-friendly tributes?

"Pst, Wiress! Over here!" It's definitely Cameron's voice.

"I'm so glad you're okay," I say, settling down next to him. "Now, let's see what's in our bags."

I have a pocketknife, water bottle, a loaf of bread, some apples, a blanket, and a rope. Nothing that I can use to make a bomb or create an electric charge. But I did well enough when I trained for hand-to-hand combat. Two weapons are better than none.

"Ooh! Can I have one of your apples? I'm so hungry," Cameron begs, reaching for my bag.

I move it out of the way quickly. "No. We just ate. These will be for when we absolutely can't stand our growling stomachs anymore. When we feel like we're gonna pass out. In the meantime, don't think about food. Believe it or not, we can last for a few days without it. It's water we need to find."

"Then we have to melt some snow," he replies matter-of-factly.

I nod. "Let's scoop some up in our bottles. Then the sun should melt it enough to become a liquid. But we still have to wait for it to sanitize."

"I'm fine with that," Cameron says, shrugging. "I'm always less thirsty when it's cold."

After we fill up our bottles, I decide to scope out more of the arena. "Come on. We shouldn't stay in one place for too long."

For now, our goal is to stay away from the others. We walk for hours through the forest, finally coming to a clearing by nightfall. No cannons have sounded since the bloodbath. I feel better about taking a break at this point, but I still have to stay alert.

"How are you holding up, Cameron?" I ask as we munch on a chunk of bread and apples, taking a swig of our water bottles.

"Fine," he replies. "It's not so bad right now."

When we set off once more, the temperature's decreased rapidly. We pull the coat hoods over our ears. But moving keeps us warmer than we would be if we just sat around.

At some point, Cameron abruptly stops walking. "Uh, Wiress, we need to turn back."

"Why?"

A few steps later, I find out. We're standing on the edge of a massive cliff. Below it, there's nothing but jagged rocks.

Then the crunching sound of footsteps reaches my ears. I fix my eyes in the direction of the noise, hoping that I won't need to pull out my knife. It's in my pocket, ready to be drawn out in a split second.

A silhouette comes into view. One of the boy tributes is sprinting at us. But I don't think he's aiming to kill. It looks like he's running from something. Nothing is following him, though. He must be in a panic, trying to hide from everything. He must not see us in this faint darkness. Only a shred of sunlight remains.

I try warning him. "Hey, there's a-"

Too late. He falls off the cliff, screaming.

_Boom_.

As unfazed as possible, I face Cameron. "So, now the question is, where do we sleep? The snow can't be a comfortable bed, but we have to set up somewhere..."

"Guess what I have!" He cheers. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a tightly rolled-up sleeping bag. "We can take turns sleeping in it, so one of us can keep watch at all times."

"Great idea, kid," I say, patting him on the back. "You really hit the jackpot when you grabbed that bag!"

"You get to use it first."

I wave my hands in protest. "Oh, no, I couldn't take that from you-"

"Wiress, please. I insist. You've been so nice to me."

Back in the forest, we find a patch of bushes to sleep under. If any tributes come looking for victims, they won't be able to see us. He sits down, crossing his legs. I unroll the bag and slip inside. It's so warm, erasing the numbness in my legs and providing unexpected comfort.

Before I completely fall into sleep, the Panem national anthem plays, and we see the faces of today's fallen tributes. The boy we just saw die was from District 10, and he can't be that much older than Cameron.

I poke my head out of the sleeping bag. "Are you gonna be warm enough, Cameron?"

"Yeah."

Another thought crosses my mind. "If you're thinking about making a fire in the dark, that's asking to be killed. The others would be able to see it from miles away."

"I know," he says, as if I've just insulted him. "It's not that. I'll just rub my arms and legs together once in a while to put more feeling into them, and I'll get up sometimes to stretch out. You should try it when your shift comes. It might be extremely cold, but we're capable of keeping our own bodies warm without fire or light."

I yawn. "Sounds okay. Goodnight." Then I remember something. "Oh, wait! I've got a blanket you can use, too." I sit up and rummage through my bag, grabbing the blanket, which Cameron takes gratefully.

"Goodnight, Wiress."

Under the wintry night sky, I finally find some peace in sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

My shift for keeping watch goes smoothly. I can actually relax somewhat as I watch the sun rise. Cameron must be sensitive to the light, because he wakes up suddenly. There's something I've been dying to ask him, and now might be my best chance.

"How'd you get reaped, anyway?" I ask while we eat a piece of bread. "I thought they made an exception for the mayor's children."

He scoffs. "Whoever told you that was a liar. My dad's got nothing on President Snow, who ensures that everyone eligible has their name in the reaping bowls, no matter who they're related to. He insists we're _all_ supposed to be treated equally, that we _all _need to learn our lessons from District 13's rebellion."

I roll my eyes inside. It's been nearly sixty years since the Games were established. Most of the people from those days are dead and gone. You'd think the Hunger Games would've disappeared, yet generation after generation has suffered the same consequences. _We _had nothing to do with what happened in District 13. How is this fair?

"Oh," is all I say aloud. Cameras are planted everywhere, so I have to be careful of my words.

Snow begins falling lightly. I can see where this is going: The Gamemakers are pushing us to find shelter before it becomes a blizzard.

"Cameron, you said you can build forts, right?"

"Yeah," he replies. "I get what you're trying to say. We'll be buried in snow if we don't move. So let's not waste time."

We head in the direction of the mountains. It probably has a cave or two hidden in them. If not, we can see about using the rocks to make a fort.

During our walk, we come face to face with another tribute. Her hair's a messy blonde ponytail and she's carrying her bag, a bow, and a quiver of arrows strapped over her back. I know who she is, of course.

"Hey, Quinn."

"Wiress."

Cameron waves at her hesitantly, a little intimidated by her weapon. I'm not sure he trusts her, but I do.

"Where are you two headed?" she asks.

I shrug. "Somewhere safe, probably the mountains. We're looking for a hideout spot."

"Smart idea. Can I come with you?"

"Sure." Quinn was more than helpful during training, and to be honest, I could use another girl's company.

Cameron, Quinn and I keep trudging onward as the snow comes. Nothing bad comes our way for hours. We've almost reached the bottom of the mountain. Luckily, there are tons of rocks piled around it. _Perfect_.

Then a male scream catches my ears. Quinn's body jolts upright, as if she recognizes the scream. "Dwayne!" She takes off running towards the sound. I don't want to leave her alone. Cameron and I trail behind her warily, keeping our eyes open for tributes.

She turns out to be right. Her district partner lies on the ground, bleeding profusely from a stab wound. The girl from District 6 stands up, her knife tainted with his blood. A cannon fires to confirm that the wound was fatal.

In the blink of an eye, Quinn releases an arrow into her heart. Holy volts. I didn't even see Quinn prepare her bow. She's a perfect shot.

Cameron and I begin walking again.

"Hold on just a second!" Quinn snaps. "I need to say goodbye."

Of course. I'm an idiot. "All right," I tell her. "We'll stay here until the hovercar comes to take the bodies away."

It arrives within a minute of the cannon blast.

Quinn hangs her head. "Let's go."

A few steps later, we reach our destination at the foot of the mountain range. Cameron gets to work making a fort for us. It won't keep us out of sight from anyone who might be on the mountain, but it will blend in and conceal us from three points of view. Quinn and I help with stacking on some of the lighter rocks that we can actually carry. It looks more than sturdy enough to hold. This will be our home for now. If you can call anywhere in the arena home.

While she makes a fire within the fort, Quinn cries silently. "I liked him. I mean, I _really_ liked him. And I never got the chance to say it."

I swallow hard, wondering how I would feel if Beetee and I hadn't kissed. The thought twists my stomach. We still might see each other again, but for Quinn and Dwayne, that possibility has been crushed for good. "I'm sorry," is all I can manage.

As we sit there in depressing silence, a parachute touches the snow. "Looks like we earned something," I say happily, opening it. Inside the parachute is a pot of chicken dumpling soup. There's a note attached to the lid:

_Thought you could use a little food and warmth. Eat up. -Beetee_

"Well, it won't be hot forever," Cameron reasons. "Dinner time."

We each gulp down one scoop of the delicious soup. It tastes so wonderful, I wish I could make it last. But this is all we can eat for now. I pack the pot away in my bag.

"Hey Quinn," I begin to say. But Quinn's already fast asleep, nestled in her own sleeping bag.

Cameron whispers, "Let her sleep. She's had a rough day."

"Yeah. I'll do guard duty first, so you rest up. I'll wake you later."

"You're awesome, Wiress." He yawns as he slips into his sleeping bag. "Nighty night."

I wrap my blanket around me and sit close to the fire, relieved to have made it through another day.


	7. Chapter 7

It's almost sunrise when the ground seems to give in from under me, rumbling like a hungry beast. I peer up from where I fell to see where the damage is. My eyes are drawn to the mountains. We're experiencing the fury of a full-blown avalanche.

"Move. Now!" I scream at my allies. Cameron and Quinn wake with a start, but as soon as they see the avalanche coming, they waste no time. We push rocks out of a section of the fort, making it easier for us to escape quickly.

The snow glides on down the mountain, and it reaches my feet. I fall down from the impact, but it could be worse. No broken bones or sprains. Snow has piled up overnight, providing a pillow of comfort.

_Boom_._ Boom. _ Sounds like two people weren't so fortunate.

"Quinn? Cameron?" I look around as I stand up, shaking off the snow.

"I'm good," Cameron says.

Quinn's limping slightly when she gets to her feet. "I busted my ankle. It's probably not broken, but I don't wanna walk on it right now."

"I'll help you there." I come to her side, putting an arm around her shoulders for support, while we keep on moving.

Cameron trails behind us, shaking with fear. "That was a close one."

We come to rest at a bush. Quinn's not in any condition to walk, and I won't leave her alone. "We'll hide out here for now," I tell them.

I peek over the bush once in a while to see if anyone's snuck up on us, my knife at the ready. Hours pass. I guess the avalanche was today's giant obstacle from the Gamemakers. They don't like to kill off too many tributes in one day, because that would be boring for the Capitol viewers. Heaven forbid everybody died at once.

As the sun goes down, I sense a pair of footsteps walking by. Cameron's eyes widen in shock, working hard to hold his breath. Quinn shoots me a look that says, _why aren't you doing anything?_

If I could speak without being heard, I'd say, _they don't see us and we don't see them, so what's the problem? _I'd rather not become a killer. Unprovoked murder would only make someone else try to kill me in revenge. Plus, I feel better knowing that I don't have blood on my hands. So far.

Luckily, the tribute doesn't stay. My stomach growls, reminding me that we haven't eaten since last night.

"How about some soup, you guys?"

Cameron and I gather wood for a fire. Once it's ready, the soup heats up quickly. We finish it off, frowning at the loss.

"Where are we gonna get food now?" Cameron asks.

"The pine trees," Quinn replies. "The pinecones actually have edible seeds in them."

I nod, remembering what I learned about edible plants in training. "We still have some apples and bread, too."

While we were eating, the sky had begun to darken. Now I can't even make out the figures of Cameron or Quinn anymore. It's time to see the faces of the fallen. This day went by surprisingly fast. Only two tributes died today: the girl from District 8 and the boy from District 11, who were caught in the avalanche. Just because I've adjusted to the arena doesn't mean it's any easier to know that other people have died while I live.


	8. Chapter 8

Half of the next day goes by without any carnage. The Capitol people must be getting anxious by now, so I don't expect this calm to last.

"Why don't we get going?" I suggest.

Cameron groans. "Do we have to?"

I know exactly what he means. My blood sugar's low, I have almost no food in my system, and I feel terrible. We've been slumped behind the bush for several hours, drained of energy.

"She's right," Quinn says. "It's not safe to assume that the Gamemakers won't target us here. Or, worse, one of the Careers might find us."

I raise an eyebrow. "Careers?"

"Back home, it's what we call the tributes from Districts 1, 2 and 4. You know, because they make a career out of training for the Hunger Games?"

"Right," I reply with a nod.

Cameron shudders. "I don't like that idea. It's so unfair for the rest of us. Two weeks of training just isn't enough."

"You're telling me," I agree. The only reason I'm alive is because of my intelligence and speed.

As we walk, a series of growling noises begins to register in my ears. Whatever the source is, it sounds gigantic and vicious.

"What could it be?" Quinn asks. I'm feeling curious, too. We can't resist marching onward to where the noises are coming from, and before long, we reach a cluster of pine trees that encircle the mystery animals.

The beasts turn out to be monstrous bears. They're about ten feet taller than I would expect a bear to be. Mutts. But somebody's already killed them.

My eyes move next to the dead bears. Lying unconscious, weapons in hand, are two tributes: Sapphire, the beautiful brunette girl from District 1, and Tally, the red-headed girl from District 4. They don't look gone yet, but by the looks of their gruesome wounds, death will come soon. I think both of them are younger than me.

"Wow." Cameron looks paralyzed with fear at the sight of these bodies.

I must look afraid, too. It haunts me that not even the people who trained illegally back home are strong enough for this. Their cannons make it official: Only seven of us are left now.

Just then, an ear-splitting roar cuts through the air.

"I should've known," I mutter. We've got one more bear to deal with.

Cameron springs into action, grabbing the closest, biggest rock he can find. I get out my knife. Quinn preps her bow with an arrow.

She looks from me to Cameron. "Get behind me, you guys."

I stay put. Do I really want to owe my life to her?

"Get behind me, now!" she repeats.

"Fine."

The bear steps into view, towering over us like a skyscraper. A tree beside it falls down at the power of its might.

Quinn shoots arrow after arrow at the bear, but none of them seem to do lasting damage. This mutt bear is truly indestructible. I feel helpless with only my knife to protect us.

The bear stomps its way closer to Quinn. She paces around him, then charges straight for its chest. He locks his jaws onto her shoulder.

I can't help but scream at the same time as her.

"Wiress!" Cameron hisses, "Stop it! Do you want that thing to come after you, too?"

I shut my mouth. Good thing he can knock some sense into me. I think I'm going insane in this arena.

Cameron takes his bulky rock, spins around, and heaves it straight at the bear's head. The bear falls over in pain. Quinn moves out of its grasp, wincing. Bravely, Cameron runs at it with another rock. He bashes it repeatedly into the bear's skull before it has a chance to hurt him. All I see of its head now is a bloody pulp. Definitely dead.

I run to Quinn's side.

"Listen, Wiress," she whispers. "These wounds aren't too bad right now, but it'll just get worse in the next few days, without any medicine. I don't want to suffer or burden Haymitch with the task of getting me a sponsor who'll pay for it. So… I need you to kill me."

"No, no, no, no, no." I keep mumbling it, shaking my head repeatedly. Tears are forcing their way down my face.

"Slit my throat, stab me in the heart, I don't care. I'll die anyways. "

"_Please_ don't make me do it," I beg. "I'll never forgive myself."

"But this is an exception because I'm asking you to. I won't hate you for it. You're helping me. Wiress, honestly, you're such a great friend." She pauses, wincing. "If you don't win, I'll be waiting for you. Wherever we go."

With a deep sigh, I place my knife at her throat, trying to compose myself. "Ready?"

"Yes. Goodbye, Wiress."

"Goodbye, Quinn."

I move the blade across her neck as quickly and effectively as possible.

Her cannon rings in the air, a somber echo that never completely fades. I plunge my knife into the snow, allowing it to wash off. But it won't get rid of the blood on my sleeves. Cameron puts an arm around my shoulder. "You did the right thing, Wiress. She's not hurting anymore."

"True," I admit, giving him a quick hug. "Thanks for getting rid of that bear."

We watch as the hovercraft arrives, and I get my last glimpse of the girl from District 12.

I can't focus on anything else for the rest of the day. How am I supposed to recover from killing my friend? All I want to do is sob uncontrollably. I don't even look up when the fallen tributes are shown.

"Any more besides the three?" I ask Cameron.

"No."

I finally decide to handle Quinn's items afterwards. I take everything I can use: her sleeping bag, slingshot, and knife. No food remains in her bag. I don't want to grab the bow because every single arrow was wasted on the bear.

"Hey, Wiress!" he calls. "We have a parachute." He opens it up to find a loaf of bread, and a note. Cameron reads it aloud:

_District 12 thanks you for allying with Quinn, and for obeying her final request. I know it took some real courage. We're rooting for you now, District 3. –Haymitch Abernathy _

"Thank you, Haymitch," I mumble after taking a bite of the delicious bread. No doubt it was baked by Quinn's father.

I fall asleep staring at the fake sky, pretending that Quinn's sleeping bag is the warm embrace of Beetee.


	9. Chapter 9

I awake the next morning to see Cameron packing his bag, like he's planning on going somewhere.

"I'm leaving," he says calmly.

Well, I definitely didn't expect this. "What? You can't go!"

Cameron suddenly grows angry. "Geez. You think I need some kind of babysitter? Have you forgotten where we are? This had to happen eventually. Only one person can go home alive. I want Panem to know that I'm more than capable of fending for myself. Unlike some people."

"Did you just call me a weakling?" I ask, my eyebrows raised in frustration.

"Yeah." He says it as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Let's face it. You wouldn't have lasted without Quinn or me."

"Go, on then," I say. "I won't hold you back anymore. But…" I don't want his last memory of me to be one of anger, so I take a deep breath. "Just… don't forget about me. No matter where you are, I'm still your district partner. I'll be looking out for you."

He smirks. "Same here. I mean, we've done so much together already that it would be impossible to hurt you if we cross paths. But we need space… Well, if I don't make it, I hope you do. May the odds be ever in your favor, Wiress."

"Good luck, Cam."

Cameron turns his back to me and walks off into the wilderness.

I follow his lead soon after, packing up for a long trek. The sun beats down, warmer than it's been for the past four days. As I move along, I see the snow turn into slush. I shouldn't feel grateful yet, though. They might cool everything down again later. Stuffing my coat into my bag, I reach the mountains within a few hours. It wouldn't be so bad to hide away in there for now. I don't climb too far before I find a tiny cave. It's the perfect size, and it's not easy for others to spot. Just in case, I find a rock that's the same color as the cave and place it over the opening. Home sweet home.

I laugh to myself. I could seriously stay in here for the remainder of the Games, and nobody would know. But I have to come out at some point to get more food and water.

Somewhere nearby, a boy moans in pain.

It sounds like… Cameron.

I peer out of the cave. Surely enough, he lies at the bottom of the mountain with an axe stuck in his stomach. He looks worse the closer I get to him. There's absolutely no chance of him recovering. I slowly make my way down to him, knowing that his attacker might still be around.

"Who did this to you?" I ask. My voice can't mask my horror.

"The District 2 boy. Mason, I think his name is. What's weird is, he didn't even try to finish me off. He just ran away."

How strange. The Games must finally be taking their toll on Mason and the other "Careers". Or he got tired of watching his victims die.

"It hurts so much," Cameron sobs. Over the past few weeks, it was easy to see him as a mature young man, but now, I see him for the little boy he really is. One who shouldn't have to welcome death so soon.

"I know," I say. "You've been so brave, Cameron." I have to hold back from crying in front of him. I've cried too much since I stepped into the arena. "If I had a little brother, I'd want him to be just like you."

"Really?"

I give him a bittersweet grin. "Really."

"Guess what?" he asks me weakly, trying to sit up. "If I had an older sister, I'd want her to be just like you."

I ruffle his hair gently. "Shh. Don't talk, hun. Just lie down and relax."

He barely has any time to relax. His death comes within seconds. I remain with him as the hovercraft descends.

"I'll never forget you, Cameron Lang," I whisper. I extend my hand in a three-finger salute when his body takes to the air.

All of District 3 will be mourning tonight, and I'm no exception. Back in the cave, I curl up in my sleeping bag and weep. It exhausts me until I succumb to sleep.

Sometime later, the Panem anthem plays, perking me to attention. Cameron's the only death today. Down drops another parachute. This one is full of wires, dynamite, motion detectors, and two medium-sized hollow balls. The perfect ingredients for a bomb.

I have to stifle a squeal. None, absolutely none, of the other tributes can do this. The perks of living in the electronic district!

Beetee's left me a note with the parachute:_ You and Cameron worked well together. Now it's time to show people what you really can do._

By the light of a fire, I get to work on the bombs. There's only enough ammo for two, so I have to be strategic about where I place them. They can be activated with only the slightest movement. I'll wait to plant them until tomorrow, I decide.

That Mason kid better hope he's far away from me, or else I might just kill again.

I am about to fall asleep when I hear rocks moving outside. Immediately, I freeze. Through an uncovered hole in my hideout, the moon is bright enough that I can see two figures. Standing there are Mason and his district partner, a pale, raven-haired girl named Shay. They're in the middle of a conversation. I hold my breath, praying that they don't know about my little cave.

"What about that girl from District 3?" I hear him say. "We have to get her."

Shay scoffs. "Easy. She's too afraid, too useless to actually harm anyone."

So that's what they think of me, eh? I open my bag, staring down at my bombs.

Well then… they're gonna regret that tomorrow. Game on.


	10. Chapter 10

My plan is all set as the sun rises. I'm going to bury the bombs in two locations, and mark them with two black rocks (wouldn't want to get killed by my own bombs!). I spend my morning searching for the right places, studying the rocks so I'll know how to spot them. The weather is increasingly hotter as the hours pass, forcing me to stuff my snowpants and sweater into my bag as well. Wearing only the cargo pants and t-shirt is a welcome change in this humidity. I keep walking because I can't stay put. The other tributes have ignored me before, but now that we're getting closer and closer to the end, they'll be prowling everywhere for a sign of my existence. To make things worse, I've been denying the fact that I'm dying. Bits and pieces of bread, apples, and pinecone seeds just aren't enough. My legs can barely hold me up for long. I'll need water soon, but the snow has all melted.

Near the mountains, I take my knife and begin digging a hole for the first bomb. It fits into the hole nicely. Hastily, I cover it back up, placing one of my black rocks on top. I waste no time to get moving again. For all I know, the bomb could go off at any second.

Just as I'm about fifty feet away…

BOOM.

I don't look back, but the destruction I've left behind is palpable. Smoke envelops me and I know I've only got seconds before the rocks start to fly in my direction, so I flee for safety.

When I'm a safe distance away, I begin to cough, falling to the ground behind a bush. Two cannons ring out. Even though I'm happy this bomb worked, I don't feel accomplished. I feel incredibly guilty. And I already know it's going to stay in the back of my thoughts until the day I die. Which is probably closer than I'd like to think.

"I'm sorry," I mutter to nobody.

I plant the next bomb under a bush. Nobody would think that hiding in a bush is dangerous. Ha! They'd be in for an unpleasant surprise if they found this one.

_Now_, I think, _what to do next?_ I could go back into hiding. It's honestly my best tactic, besides the bombs. And unlike some people, I'm not excited about killing anyone. Especially when they're strangers. But first, I have to find some food. The leftovers I took from Cameron's bad won't last me long.

As I step towards the next bush, one of the boy tributes passes by. This is Floyd, from District 4, if I remember correctly. I hunker down quickly, holding my breath.

_Please don't find me, please don't find me! _

Slowly but surely, he continues moving. I know he's looking for me. That doesn't mean anything, though. Don't they remember what I said at the interviews? I really _am _hard to keep track of. I refuse to budge until he's completely out of sight.

A fox scampers in my direction. Perfect food. My body needs some meat. Now, how do I catch him? I rummage through my bag. My wool sweater. I can drop it on the ground, place a bit of my bread under it, and the fox should come to eat it. Then I'll attack.

To make the fox think I mean no harm, I have to act like I'm going somewhere else. I stroll away from my "trap". Behind a tree, I watch for signs of him. In almost no time, he comes to my sweater and digs under it for the piece of bread. I'm surprised this worked.

I make my way over, very, very slowly. At the right moment, I wrap my sweater around the fox so he can't escape. I stab him straight in the heart. He stops breathing soon after. Wow. I just managed to hunt. Not bad for a city girl. Picking up his body, I walk around the mountain, hoping to find another little cave. Just as I thought, there's a nice one a few feet up from where I stop. My new sleeping quarters for tonight.

Skinning the fox makes me want to vomit. How do people manage this kind of life? Quinn must have done it dozens of times. But his meat is rather good when I cook it over a little fire. It should keep me alive for at least a day longer.

The anthem plays. I shudder to discover who my bombs killed. It turns out to be Mason, and Remy, from District 1. Shay must have escaped in time. At least I avenged my district partner's death. I fall asleep the only way I know how: with a burning flame of determination.

**Author's note- I just made a Wiress account on Twitter, if you wanna follow. I tweet about some of the things that happen in this story. NuttyWiress : )**


	11. Chapter 11

A bright stream of light probes through the hole in my cave. Another lovely day awaits. Chills run down my spine when I realize that only _four _of us are left. I've made it farther than Joules did. It's like she's given me the strength to make it this far.

Stepping outside, I look up at the sky. _Thank you Joules. _As if to answer, rain starts pouring down. I let drops fall into my mouth, and it tastes so amazing after thirsting for so long. Only a few seconds later do I remember that the Gamemakers could've poisoned the water. _Oops_. I begin walking once more, careful to keep my mouth closed. An hour passes and I still feel fine. Yet the rain is still coming. It's relentless, almost blinding. So they intend to flood the arena, which would bring us all together. And here I was hoping not to run into anyone. How do I avoid them? I can swim, but I need to find higher ground. Time for some tree climbing.

It's hard to get a grip on the bark when it's sopping wet. I slip more than a few times, and it's all I can do to hang on to the trunk. I settle on a steady branch about twenty feet in the air. _Don't look down_, I remind myself. I might fall over if I do. Then… I wait. The water doesn't flood as high up as I expected it to go. Oh well. As long as I'm still breathing, climbing was worth the bruises.

Now for the next problem: I can't climb down without being soaked. In reality, though, the water's only risen to about a foot. I can handle that. It's so much harder to come down. Much more painful, too. I can't even say how happy I am when I reach ground. The water goes up to my knees, and I'm struck by immediate cold. It feels like I've stepped in ice. But it's a nice relief after basking in heat. While the water's so abundant, I decide I might as well fill up my bottle.

It would be so easy to just hide again, yet it has to be somewhere new. The others might have caught on to where I've been in the mountains. I sludge through the water on another walk, looking for some giant bushes. Call me morbid, but I feel better knowing that there are only three people to worry about now. Way more space for me to conceal myself. Plus, the sun is setting.

I find the perfect set of bushes. They actually look pretty comfortable. A nice bed, with room to hide my bag and me. I won't try sleeping on the ground again until the water recedes, but this will do just fine. Covered in branches and leaves, I close my eyes.

So much time has flown by that a jolt of surprise runs through me at the sound of the anthem. I jump out of my bush, staring up into the sky. Only one person died today: the boy from District 7. His cannon must have been muffled by the loud rain, because I didn't hear it. Just like that, I have made it into the top three. Things are about to get really interesting. _If _they find me, that is.


	12. Chapter 12

By the time dawn arrives, I relent. I know I can't hide anymore. All I want now is to get this over with. I have no more time for sleep when my life hangs in the balance. I have to be completely focused if I'm going to win. I stare down at my clothes, and my ribs are frighteningly visible. My legs are sticks. I've never been this thin.

I peek out of my bush to see that the ground is dry once more. It's like the Gamemakers sucked up the water while I slept. But it wouldn't matter either way. Dry or not, today's going to be the last day of the Games if I have anything to say about it. One thought still hasn't quite hit me yet: I might actually _win_, becoming the second victor from District 3 in over ten years. I might actually _live_.

And there goes another cannon. Only one other tribute remains besides me. Who is it? I wonder.

There's only one way to find out.

I pack my knife and rope inside my pant pockets, leaving everything else behind. Here goes what might be the last minutes of my life. We're really getting down to the wire now. Guess I'll never know if my second bomb went off.

I see the silhouette of a tribute in the distance. "Hey District 3," a female voice calls. "Time to die."

Shay. I remember seeing her pulverize the equipment in training. An idea starts forming quickly. I'm going to make her chase me. All the way to that cliff Cameron and I found on the first day. Maybe I'll get lucky and she'll fall off.

"Won't be that easy," I tell her with a big mischievous grin, taking off before she can respond. We weave through trees, even around the whole mountain range, sweat dripping everywhere. Pure adrenaline shoots through me. Shay doesn't get tired at all. If we weren't caught in this stupid arena, I'd applaud how well she can keep up with me. I've managed to keep out of her grasp, until-

"Ahh!"

She's bashed me hard in the skull with some hard object, and I fall facedown into the dirt. I can't think clearly. The pain! But I have to end this now.

I roll over and kick my foot under her legs, knocking her onto the ground with me. She waves her knife at me. It cuts into my leg with a sharp pinch. Whipping out my rope, I tie it around her neck before she has more time to think. I pull it tighter. Her eyes glare at me with fear, and she makes a terrible choking sound. I won't forget it for as long as I live. Then… nothing.

The blast of trumpets reaches my ears. Claudius Templesmith's voice announces: "Introducing the victor of the fifty-fifth annual Hunger Games, from District 3, Wiress Plummer!"

Somehow, impossibly, I'm the last one standing. The thought makes me break down into tears. It's so bittersweet. This only happened because I killed with my bare hands. I don't even have the strength to look down at them. But I can finally breathe again. _I won_. My exhaustion catches up to me, and before the hovercar arrives to pick me up, I succumb to sleep.

I wake up in a hospital bed. My skin's newly cleaned, my cuts are gone… and I've been shaved completely bald.

A doctor stands next to me, smiling. "Welcome back, Miss Plummer."

"Hi," I squeak. My voice. It's more high-pitched, weaker than before. I look back at the doctor. "My head…" Immediately, I know something's wrong. I don't know what to say next.

"We had to shave it for your operation," he says.

"Operation?"

"Yes. We went in to see if we could fix the brain injury you sustained. Unfortunately, your condition was inoperable."

I feel around my skull for the incision, but the doctor smiles and says, "Not to worry. It's all covered up."

He keeps me in the hospital for a few more days so that I can recover well enough for my crowning ceremony and interview. Don't they understand that I'll never _really_ recover?

The prep team walks in, carrying wigs of all colors and styles. For once, I can really appreciate the Capitol's pampering. I wasn't looking forward to going home bald, even though my hair will grow back quickly enough.

"Which one would you like to wear?" Nelly asks. "You'll get to take it with you, if you want."

As they make me over, I choose a long-haired, light brown wig that's closest to my real hair color. There was a neon blue one I played around with. I can't be too adventurous if I'm going to wear this for a long time, though. Dev arrives with a knee-length red dress. It's way too poofy for a tomboy like me, but I'll never complain again when I'm lucky to be here, _alive_.

"Ty's ready for you when you're done," he says. After the girls do my hair and makeup, they leave me so I can slip on the dress. Someone knocks on the other side of my room.

"Time to go, Wiress." That's definitely not Ty's voice. It comes from a brown-skinned boy in square-framed glasses, who stands waiting at the door. I haven't seen him since the night before the Games.

"Beetee!" I can hardly restrain myself from crashing into his arms.

He holds me close for a minute, just keeping quiet. I rest my head on his shoulder. "It's all over," he whispers. "Is it selfish of me to be grateful that you're back here?"

"No." I became victor purely _because_ I was selfish. "I can't…"

"Can't finish your sentences anymore. Yeah. But that doesn't make any difference to me."

"Why aren't you…?"

"Why am I not looking at you any differently? Please. I don't have any right to be criticizing you for what happened in the arena, when I was just as bad. Listen to me." He lifts up my chin. "You did nothing wrong, okay? I was in your place once, so I know how guilty you must feel about the lengths you went to in order to live. I'm _still_ a complete mess from my Games. Remember how many people _I _killed? And let's not forget, your sister was my district partner. Remember how sad I was when Joules died? You didn't know me yet, but when I came home, seeing you cry non-stop broke my heart even more. We have to find some way to move on from the pain. And I hope we can do that together."

Beetee places his hand over mine. "Wiress, the night we kissed was one of the best moments of my life. Of course, that wouldn't have happened so soon if it weren't for the Games. Now I want to start over, properly. Will you have dinner with my family and me once we're back in District 3?"

I can hardly process this. Heaven knows I need a friend right now, at the very least. But in our District, the guys always introduce girls to their families when they officially want to be _more_ than friends. Then, a few years later, they typically marry. How did I get so lucky?

"Yes." It's the only full sentence I can say. But it's all I need to say. I knot my fingers through his, because I know without a doubt that nobody else will do for me. When it comes to us, we've got all the time in the world to figure out what the future holds. Something I never thought I would get to do.

He smiles, giving my hand a light kiss. "Ready to be crowned victor?"

How can I find the strength to answer that? Beetee seems to read my silence and doesn't push me for a reply. He knows why: this shouldn't have happened at all. We were supposed to just lead normal lives. The Games ruined everything. As we make our way to the stage, I think of what's ahead for me. On the downside, I'll be coming back to the Capitol every year as a mentor until someone else in my district wins. But on the upside, I'm moving to the Victor's Penthouse, I can return home to my parents, my district will get extra food for the next year, and I can officially be Beetee's girlfriend. He's the only one who understands me now. Most importantly, _I never have to experience this nightmare ever again. _

Or so I thought.

**Author's Note: Thank you guys for following Wiress all the way to the end! Yes, I'll be writing another story about her experience in The Quarter Quell. Of course, it'll be called "Tick Tock". Look out for the beginning on November 23****rd**** (exactly one year before Catching Fire hits theatres in 2013!).**


	13. Chapter 13

And here it is! The sequel : ) s/8728939/1/Game-On-Tick-Tock


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